


Frosting

by flameofarcana



Category: Naruto
Genre: ItaShi, M/M, ShiIta, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flameofarcana/pseuds/flameofarcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Itachi doesn't like frosting on his cupcakes. </p><p>A Valentine's Day fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosting

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a day and a half I'm delirious.
> 
> ShiIta is actually my favorite ship of the time space parallel it is the only thing that matters to me.
> 
> Some of the stuff in this is kind of immature, as in the way the characters act, but that's just the dumb shit you do when you're hyper emotional. I don't actualy condone the way certain people handle certain things. Dramatic merit, and all that. Also my writing style in this is kinda fucky because? I don't know it's just how it came out. 
> 
> I usually have so many things to say but I phsycially don't know how to write another word. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Why aren’t you eating your cupcake?”

Itachi blinked up. A small, sticky finger pointed accusingly down at a mound of pink frosting.

“It’s rude, you know,” the boy continued, sniffling his nose. “I brought a cupcake just for you—and you’re not even gonna eat it?”

“You brought it for the whole class,” Itachi corrected quietly, eyeing the finger which was still in his face. He didn’t like it, it looked unclean and the boy had a runny nose, which meant he was getting sick. Itachi didn’t want to get sick, and momma always told him that sweet things made sickness worse.

“Because it’s my birthday!” The boy’s chubby face broke into a wide grin. “And you aren’t going to celebrate it with me?

Itachi’s black doe eyes moved slowly between the cupcake and the boy. “I…don’t like frosting.”

“ _Frosting?”_ He looked appalled. “How can you not like frosting?!”

Itachi shrugged.

“Because it’s sweet?” he guessed.

“No,” Itachi shook his little head, dark hair scattering around his forehead and eyes. “I like sweet things.”

“Frosting is the sweetest thing I can think of!” his classmate protested, shoving his arms out to the side to clearly _show_ Itachi how appalled he was.

Itachi blinked back down at the desert. “I don’t know. It’s too sticky. When you eat it, it gets all over your face.”

The boy looked confused. “You are very weird.”

Itachi looked mildly offended. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” His momma taught him that, too.

He put his hands on his hips. “I’m not being mean! You’re the one that won’t eat the cupcake!”

Itachi glared at him.

The boy was quiet for a moment, and then a gigantic grin broke across his face. “Here! I have an idea!” He snatched the desert off of Itachi’s immaculately clean desk and, using his little pink tongue, swiped all the frosting off the top of the cupcake. He set it back down in front of Itachi with pride.

“…you licked my cupcake,” Itachi said, a little sadly.

“Now you don’t have to eat the frosting!” He exclaimed. “You’re welcome.”

Itachi wrinkled his nose a little bit but—after a few moments, he decided it wasn’t too bad. And it was his classmate’s birthday, after all, so it would be rude of him to reject the gift.

The boy’s smile was bright as Itachi took his first bite. “There! Happy birthday to me!”

Itachi’s expression remained neutral. “Happy birthday.”

“By the way, name is Shisui,” he announced grandly, putting both hands behind his head. “Don’t forget it, I’m gonna be real important someday.”

* * *

 

Itachi wasn’t sure why Shisui was standing in his kitchen, a juice pop clutched between his little fingers.

“Ah, Itachi, there you are!” Mikoto smiled over at him tousling Shisui’s curly head, who giggled. “Look who came over to say hi!”

Shisui waved an excited hand at him.

“Run along and play with your friend, Itachi,” Mikoto encouraged, a somewhat anxious undertone to her words—after all, Itachi didn’t really _have_ any friends. And though it was mostly her and Fugaku’s fault, having channeled Itachi to study and practice his music and reading rather than going out any playing, she realized her son was going to grow up with precisely zero social skills. And zero friends.

And then here comes this _normal_ and excitable and energetic and _childish—_ which was a good adjective, in this situation—boy who wanted to play with Itachi. It was practically a miracle.

“He isn’t my friend,” Itachi replied.

“What are you talking about, Cupcake? Of course we’re friends!”

Itachi blinked. “Cupcake?”

“Yeah!” Shisui bounded over to him. “Don’t you remember! I brought cupcakes for my birthday, and you ate yours weird. So now I’m gonna call you Cupcake.” He grinned revealing two missing font teeth.

“I don’t like that,” Itachi muttered, scowling at the ground.

It was then, as if on cue, that a small voice began wailing from the other room.

“Oh,” Mikoto quickly took her apron off, throwing it over the back of a dining chair. “That’s Sasuke, I’ll go get him. Itachi, please be a generous host to our guest!”

“What’s a Sasuke?” Shisui asked as Mikoto whisked out of the room.

Itachi looked offended as he cast the intruder a glare. “Sasuke isn’t a what. That’s the name of my baby brother.”

“Aw, lucky!” Shisui whined. “I want a baby brother, but my parents say I can’t have one.”

“Why not?” Itachi couldn’t think of anything else in the world better than having a baby brother. He couldn’t understand why someone would purposefully not have one.

“I don’t know. Maybe they can’t because they yell at each other so much.”

Itachi nodded. That must be it, yelling was far too loud for a baby to hear.

There was a moment of silence, Shisui rocking back and forth on his feet. Suddenly, his lips, stained purple from the juice pop, stretched into a huge grin. “Hey! Let’s go to your room and see what toys you have.” He spun around and darted out of the kitchen.

“Hey, wait—” Itachi was shocked that a guest would act so brazen, but he chased after him anyways into the hall.

“Is this it?” Shisui asked, opening the door to the bathroom.

“No,” Itachi said, frowning. “I’ll show you—”

“Is this it?” he opened the door the hall closet.

“Shisui—”

“What about this room?” He opened the guest bedroom door. Itachi wasn’t even allowed to go in there, he couldn’t do that!

“Stop!” Itachi shouted.

Shisui looked surprised, dropping his hand from the door knob.

“It’s this way, I’ll show you,” Itachi continued, more quietly this time. He led Shisui around a bend in the hall to an open door. “This is my room.”

“Nice!” Shisui cried, flinging himself into the room and on to Itachi’s bed.

Itachi sighed, following after him.

“So, what do you do in here?” Shisui sat on his knees, bouncing a little. “I like to play with my dinosaurs. Do you have any dinosaur toys?” He jumped off the bed, heading towards a chest under the window. “Do you have any dinosaurs in here? Is this where you keep them?” He asked.

“No. I don’t have any dinosaurs.”

“No dinosaurs?!” Shisui’s jaw hung towards the floor. “Then what is there to _do_?!”

Itachi shrugged. “I read. And I play the cello.”

“What’s a cello?”

“It makes music,” Itachi replied. “Mine is in the piano room. My Kaa-san plays it, too, and the piano.”

“Your what?” Shisui asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Kaa-san,” Itachi said, making sure to pronounce it clearly like he was taught. “It means mother in Japanese.”

“Ohhh,” Shisui’s round eyes looked impressed. “That’s cool. You speak Japanese?”

Itachi nodded. He walked to his bookshelf, pulling a workbook off and spreading it out on the desk. “This is my hiragana work book. It teaches me how to write.”

Shisui wrinkled his nose. “That looks really hard.”

“It isn’t that hard. Kanji is worse, but Tou-san says I have to learn all this before he’ll teach me kanji.”

“Wait, wait!” Shisui exclaimed. “Let me guess! Toe-whatever means father, right?!”

Itachi smiled, nodding.

“Whoo!” Shisui thrust his fist in to the air. “I speak Japanese now!”

“Well, not really—”

“So where’s that Sasuke thing you were talking about.”

Itachi looked confused. “My brother?”

“That’s the one! Where is he?”

“The nursery. He’s only two, so he has to stay in a special room to stay safe.” He smiled. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Yeah!”

Itachi carefully led the way down the hall, holding a finger up to his lips to Shisui, who nodded rapidly with wide, fervent eyes. Upon reaching the nursery, Itachi peaked his head around the door. Mikoto was kneeling on the floor, Sasuke sitting in front of her, blocks spread out in between them.

“Kaa-san,” Itachi began quietly. “Shisui would like to meet Sasuke.”

Mikoto looked up at them and beamed. “Of course! Just remember to be quiet, and careful.”       

Both boys kneeled next to them, Shisui fidgeting some, since he wasn’t used to being careful or quiet.

Sasuke looked up and, when he saw Itachi, squealed with glee. “Nii! Nii Nii!” He cried reaching his fat little baby hands towards his brother, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.

Itachi smiled happily, the happiest Shisui had ever seen, and reached forward to carefully hug his brother.

“He’s trying to say brother,” Mikoto informed Shisui with a gentle smile. “That was his first word.”

“Hi, Sasuke,” Shisui whispered. “I’m Shisui, I’m your brother’s best friend in the whole world. Don’t forget me, because you’re going to be seeing a lot of me some day!” He grinned over at Itachi. “Isn’t that right, Itachi?”

Itachi blinked.

Well, he guessed that Shisui wasn’t _so_ bad.

* * *

 

Shisui licked the frosting off of his lips, handing the mound of yellow sponge cake, a sheen of blue smeared across the top, back to his best friend. “Here you go, Cupcake.”

“You don’t need to keep calling me that,” Itachi murmured, accepting the desert and placing it in the corner of his tray.

Shisui grinned, settling in across the metal lunch table. “Of course I do!”

The two of them had become best friends over time. It was a hesitant, awkward friendship at first, when they were younger. As they grew, though, they became closer and closer.

Now they were in middle school, and literally inseparable.

Itachi knew how it happened. He was always rather mature for his age and Shisui—well, Shisui wasn’t actually immature, but he sure as hell loved to pretend that he was. Shisui’s mother was so bent on getting him to shape up that she stuck the two of them together at all times.

Jokes on her, though. Not even Itachi could control him, not all the time, not completely.

“So, I was thinking,” Shisui started, leaning over the table, “that we could sneak into the girls’ locker room after gym and hide all their clothes in the ceiling. I know of one panel in the biology room that’s loose!”

“That’s sexual harassment, Shisui.”

Shisui blinked at him.

“That means _no_.”

“Okay, fine, fine. Let’s just throw some teachers’ keys up into the ceiling, then.”

“If we get caught, we could get suspended. That will go on our permanent records.” Itachi took a bite of his pasta.

“We could egg Mr. Wagner’s car?” Shisui suggested. “I have a carton in my locker! They’re rotten and everything!”

“We’ll get sued for property damage,” Itachi said calmly.

“Um—oh, I know, we can switch all the instruments in the band locker rooms.”

“Better, but parents will complain about an invasion of personal property and sanitation predicaments.”

“Then, how about we steal all the dry erase markers in the math room?”

Itachi blinked. “Actually—yeah, that could work.”

Shisui leaped up, huge grin splitting his face. “Let’s go, then!”

Itachi approached the math teacher, who was standing outside the open door to his classroom to watch the lunch tables, and asked some irrelevant question about the homework which he already knew. He distracted him long enough for Shisui to sneak in behind him, grab every dry erase marker—and eraser, and piece of paper, and pencil. And he turned all the tables and chairs upside down, unplugged every electronic item in the room, and brought the desk chair down to the lowest height, even though none of that was in the original plan.

As was already stated, not even Itachi could completely control Shisui.

It was either thankful or unfortunate that the two of them were not in math class the next period. Shisui did get many snapchats of the scene though, which had him hollering in mischievous glee.

They were called into the principal’s office, later, because they were something of a prankster team in the staff’s eyes. Shisui had the plans, but Itachi’s brain was the only way they were able to pull it off. Of course, Itachi’s brain also meant that they had literally never gotten caught.

Though, of course, this wasn’t exactly true. Shisui played dumb so he could get away with things, but he was just as sharp as Itachi. Someday, Itachi knew people would pay for underestimating him. Shisui had quite a few ‘Senior Pranks’ up his sleeve.

 _Anyways_ , with a spotless record, Itachi was able to deliver a very convincing, “I assure you, Mrs. Wilkon, Shisui and I were eating at the other end of the lunch tables. We were together the whole time, I promise, so it must have been someone else who did this.”

It wasn’t _exactly_ a lie, and so they were let off the hook with no binding evidence.

It wasn’t, of course, without a mournful bid to Itachi that he could ‘find such a more wholesome boy to send his time with.’

Comments like that were what fueled Itachi to help his friend with his pranks.

They met back up in 7th period English. Shisui was grinned like a madman as he took his usual seat next to Itachi.

“Dude, you have to check Adrian’s story. Mr. Halverson _freaked out_ when he saw the classroom.”

Itachi smirked a little bit, pretending to take notes so the teacher would ignore them. “I’m glad we didn’t get caught.”

“All thanks to you. Seriously, Cupcake, you’re the best. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Itachi hid his genuine smile behind his notebook.

* * *

 

Itachi set his book bag down by the tree. “You skipped school,” he said softly, taking a seat next to his friend. “You didn’t answer any of my calls. Your father didn’t even know where you were. Do you know how worried I was about you?”

Shisui just shrugged, knees bent up against his chest.

Itachi stared at him for a few moments. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Shisui shrugged again, staring off into the open field in front of them.

Itachi pressed his lips together, thinking, and then settled down next to Shisui. He crossed his legs, feeling the wind tousle the hair framing his face.

“What are you doing,” Shisui muttered, his voice flat.

“I’m not going to pressure you into telling me what’s wrong, that’s up to you. But I am going to stay here with you, because I don’t think that you should be alone right now.”

Shisui stared at him from the side, his eyes heavy. He looked away, shrugging again.

The two of them stayed in silence like that for almost an hour before Shisui spoke up.

“My parents are getting a divorce.” His voice croaked a little, and it seemed so loud in the quietness of the gentle breeze.

Itachi nodded, his heart feeling heavy.

He guessed it was going to happen, so it wasn’t really a surprise. The stories Shisui brought from home—they weren’t good. Itachi had begged the Universe that it wouldn’t happen, but realistically, there was nothing that could be done. Some people just weren’t meant to get along that way. Shisui probably knew it was going to happen, too, but he was in massive denial.

“I’m so sorry, Shisui,” Itachi said quietly, reaching out to touch Shisui’s arm.

“It’s whatever. Not exactly a big surprise.”

“That doesn’t make it any less hard to get through,” Itachi murmured.

There was another moment of silence.

“I just—it’s going to be so different, now, you know? I just keep thinking—we’re not going to have a big thanksgiving anymore. We’re never going to open presents on Christmas together, or vacation in the summer as a family. And my mom’s moving south, she isn’t even staying in the area, and at first I was so worried that she was going to take me away, but then I found out that she didn’t even want me to come.”

Itachi didn’t comment on the tear rolling down Shisui’s cheek, only because he knew how upset he would get if he did.

“She’s just _leaving_ Itachi. Did you know she’s been seeing someone else? While she was _still_ married to Dad? She doesn’t care about him. Or me.” He jerked a hand across his cheek, red eyes glaring at the grass.

“That isn’t true, Shisui, and you know it.”

“Then why is this happening. If they love each other, and if they love me, why are they doing this,” he whispered.

“Divorces are never easy but…it’s going to end up okay. You’re going to get through this.” Itachi rubbed his thumb against Shisui’s arm.

“Do you promise?” Shisui whispered.

“I promise…I promise that I’ll always be here for you, every step of the way. Is that enough?”

Shisui turned his head around, a little slowly. His eyes were carrying so much, his body language reflecting his internal exhaustion. But a smile bloomed across his face, slow and small, but it was there.

“Yeah, Cupcake. That’s enough.”

* * *

Shisui pushed through a mass of people until he reached Itachi.

“Cupcake!” He cried, throwing his arms around the thirteen year old. “You were fantastic. Best one out there, I swear, the rest of the orchestra only drags you down.”

“Shut up,” Itachi muttered, but his lips were curling despite what he said.

It was only a few seconds before Sasuke ran up to his big brother and threw his chubby little arms around him. “Nii-san!” he squealed.

Itachi’s face melted into an affectionate smile. He ruffled Sasuke’s haphazard hair, humming. “How did you enjoy the concert, little brother?”

“You were perfect!” His little face beamed, eyes almost shimmering they were so excited.

Itachi chuckled.

“Hey, Sasuke-chibi.” Shisui grinned, squatting down. “It’s good to see you again.”

Sasuke stared at him blankly.

“What, you’re not gonna say hi?” Shisui mocked offense.

Sasuke abruptly upturned his nose, fat little fingers clutching his big brother’s shirt.

“Sasuke,” Itachi scolded gently. “It’s rude to ignore our friend.”

“Shisui isn’t my friend!” Sasuke protested. “He’s evil.”                                          

“Evil?” Itachi raised is eyebrows, giving Shisui a look.

“Yes.” Sasuke nodded firmly with a small little huff. “He’s going to steal you away from me. He wants you all to himself.”

Shisui feigned a big sigh. “Well, there you go, Sasuke, throwing my big plan out into the open. Yes, it is true, I plan on sweeping Itachi off his feet and taking him away to a castle in a distant land where he will be my beautiful and faithful bride. However, I would mind if you tagged along as my loyal servant. I do believe you would look rather adorable in a little jester’s outfit. Bear in mind, you would still only be able to see your brother when I release him from his chambers in the tower. After all, he is a stunning maiden, and I would have to take extreme precautions to protect him.”

Itachi rolled his eyes.

“Nii-san!” Sasuke nearly screeched. “He’s admitting it! He’s going to take you away!”

“Shisui’s just being an idiot, as always. I’m not going anywhere, Otouto.”

“I resent that,” Shisui pouted.                      

“You don’t get a say, you’re going to make my little brother cry.” He bent down. “Here, Sasuke, get on my back.”

Sasuke giggled, jumping onto Itachi’s back and locking his arms around him in a strangle hold.

“Gentle, there,” Itachi choked, clearing his throat and readjusting Sasuke’s hands.

“Nii-san, where are we going to dinner?” Sasuke asked, leaning his head on Itachi’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Itachi, where are you treating me?”

Itachi glared at him, making his way down the aisle to his parents in the back.

“I’m kidding, kidding, of course. I brought my own money.”

Fugaku had the appropriate of withdrawn fatherly pride, and Mikoto’s face was alight with maternal affection.

“Oh, my precious Itachi, you were wonderful!” She wrapped her slims around her son, kissing Sasuke on the forehead while she was at it.

“Thank you, mom,” Itachi murmured.

“Your solo piece in that last song was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.  You’re father and I are so proud of you, Itachi, you’re an incredible musician.”

Fugaku offered only a nod, but his face was soft with affectionate pride.

Itachi smiled.

Shisui started to feel—ridiculously uncomfortable, as Itachi’s parents doted on and loved him. His family wasn’t ever like this. His parents didn’t ever get along, and it was even more uncomfortable after the divorce. It had been years since they were all together in the same room. His mother wasn’t good at showing emotion, his father was caring but just a little bit unavailable. He didn’t know what it was like to have some hallmark family—and, yes, he knew that wasn’t really Itachi’s case, since the majority of the time Fugaku was a stone cold bitch to his sons and Mikoto was too weirdly submissive to comfort them when they were beat down by their father’s constant disapproval.

But when you looked at them, when you saw them together around a dinner table, or at a family event like this, you knew that they loved each other, you knew that they were important to each other.

Shisui’s family never had that.

By the time the Uchiha family conversation came around to the topic of dinner, Shisui’s eyes were scanning for the nearest emergency exit. His throat was closing up and he just wanted—out.

“Shisui, where would you like to go eat?” Mikoto asked.

“Oh, actually, I was gonna call my dad and ask him to pick me up so,” he gave a nervous chuckle as he took a step backwards. “So you guys don’t worry about me!”

Mikoto frowned, pressing her hands together. “What? Why? Shisui, no, you have to come with us.”

“Oh, I really—”

“Shisui,” Itachi interrupted. “Why aren’t you coming?”

And that trapped him, because he didn’t like to see that confused, moderately sad look in Itachi’s eyes, and Itachi, the little thespian bastard, _knew_ that Shisui would do anything to make him happy, and was multitalented enough to feign his heartbreak.

“We won’t take no for an answer, Shisui,” Mikoto insisted.

Shisui fidgeted. “Well, alright then. Let’s get going!” he cheered halfheartedly.

They were walking around the building to the car, Sasuke leaping excitedly in between his parents, when Itachi grabbed Shisui’s hand, stopping him.

“Shisui,” he murmured. “You don’t need to feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Shisui waved his hand with perhaps a little too much force. “No, no, don’t worry about—”

“I know that things have been hard for you at home since your parents’ divorce,” Itachi continued softly, ignoring his farced excused, “but you don’t need to be awkward with us.”

Shisui didn’t say anything.

“You’re like family to me, Shisui, you should know that.”

Shisui cautiously looked up.

“You’re my best friend, and you always will be. Okay? So don’t feel awkward. Please, I swear there’s no reason for you to be. You aren’t unwelcome, you aren’t a bother. My parent’s love you, too.”

Shisui felt his hand curling around Itachi’s. “Okay. I believe you.”

“You promise?”

Shisui smiled, nodding. “I promise. Thanks, Cupcake.”

* * *

 

Shisui skipped another smooth stone across the glassy lake. “I can’t believe there’s only two weeks left of summer. And then we’re starting _high school_.”

Itachi smiled letting his toes skim across the water. He let his hands lean back on the scratchy wood of the dock, listening to the sound of cicadas. “What a way to end it, though. This has been really fun, Shisui.”

Shisui’s mom was currently dating this guy named Kent who owned a lake house in the south. Shisui’s mom drove both her son and Itachi down to stay there for a week. It was nice and calm, and unlike Itachi, Shisui actually liked the hot, sticky air.

He could do without the spiders the size of baseballs, though.

“Still though, high school? Shit, man, that’s too much to swallow.”

Itachi shrugged a little. “I think it will be fun.”

“Fun?!” Shisui shook his head. “Itachi, high school is filled with standardized testing and college applications. There isn’t anything _remotely_ fun about it.”

“There’s also hot girls, spirit days, sports teams that are actually good, and parties with alcohol,” Itachi teased.

Shisui grinned over at him, collapsing into his lap. “Damn, you know me too well.”

Shisui was growing into a very physically affectionate person. And since Itachi was his favorite human in the entire world, both past and present and future, he was _always_ touching him.

Sometimes his mom gave him weird looks when he grabbed Itachi to sit him in his lap, or laid his head on his tummy when they watched television, or shared cups and utensils with him when they ate. She _definitely_ gave him a look when she for the first time heard Shisui call him ‘Cupcake’—not that it registered in Shisui’s mind that that particular term was often used as an endearment between couples.

She nearly gave her son a certain talk when he assured her that Itachi and he could share a bed for the week.

None of it mattered to Shisui, though, not that he even noticed the glances. Itachi was already growing out of his awkward puberty faze and turning into an elegant young man. He lost all his bony extremities, he was no longer just hard elbows and rigid knees. He had soft bands of muscle under his smooth skin.

And he was so warm to _cuddle_.

“Have you started thinking about college?” Shisui asked, closing his eyes as he felt Itachi card fingers through his curly hair.

“Of course,” Itachi answered.

Of course. Shisui should have guessed that the guy who was already taking classes for the SAT would have colleges nailed down. “What’s your top?”

“UCLA,” he answered immediately.

“Yeah?” Shisui looked up at the sky. “Los Angeles is nice.”

Itachi nodded. “You should try for it, too.”

“Think I could make it in?” Shisui snorted.

“You’re incredibly smart, Shisui. Even if you won’t admit it, _I_ won’t stop reminding you.”

Shisui smiled a little. “UCLA. Damn, that’s aiming high.”

“We can do it,” Itachi said quietly, voice growing in excitement. “And then we can spend college together. We can be roommates and everything.”

Shisui grinned. “Yeah, no, that sounds really good. But it’s gonna be hard to get in.”

“I can help you study!” Itachi promised, the idea growing in his head. “You’ll get in, I _swear_. It’s worth it. Won’t you at least try? For me?” He said hopefully and—how was Shisui supposed to deny him anything when he looked at him like that?

“Yeah, Cupcake. For you, I can do it.”

* * *

 

It was about halfway through his sophomore year of high school that Itachi realized something was very wrong with him. He had—an inkling of a suspicion, maybe, when he started to be confused by what some of his friends talked about. He didn’t think the same way as them about certain things but—it wasn’t until a series of errant thoughts that he _knew_ he was in trouble. Because those inappropriate thoughts grew and grew, and festered in a corner of his mind until it metastasized his entire being. And it was so, so bad, that he didn’t even know how to _handle_ it.

He did the only thing he knew how to do.

He approached the girl who had asked him out to the Sadie Hawkins that fall. She was sweet, and kind of shy, with long dark hair and vampire like pale skin. She was—infatuated with Itachi, which made him uncomfortable at first, but he would learn to get over it, he promised himself. He first asked if she would sit with him at lunch, and after a week of that asked her to a movie. He started partnering himself with her on class projects, texting her after school, and slipping little notes into the vents in her locker.

The whole school was buzzing about them. She approached him one day, face red and eyes darting and asked—

“Are you planning to date me?”

Itachi stared simply at her. “Aren’t we already?”

The bright light of absolute joy that washed over her face made Itachi feel a little guilty. But—he was convinced that he could fall in love with her. He could look at her and see her the way he knew he should. Someday he would be able to touch her happily instead of being filled with anxiety at the thought of it.

It wasn’t like he had any other choice.

The news of their official status swept the high school campus like a highly contagious disease. He decided to text Shisui about it, first, just because they were best friends and that felt right. Shisui’s response wasn’t as…enthusiastic as Itachi was expecting, though. For the amount of sex jokes Shisui made, his response was kind of—bland? Itachi wasn’t sure, but he supposed it didn’t much matter.

* * *

“So, uh—how’s it going with Izumi?” Shisui asked around a cough. He was sitting with Itachi at lunch, watching his friend poke his fork into a Caesar salad.

Shisui didn’t like Izumi. He didn’t know why. She was sweet, and kind, and very pretty. But the moment Itachi texted him those months back, telling him he got a girlfriend—he felt upset. There was an awful feeling in his tummy and he didn’t know why.

And now every time he looked at Izumi, he got all pissed off.

He just didn’t want Itachi to date her. He felt so weird every time he saw them touch, he couldn’t stand looking at them when they were close to each other. Maybe Itachi should be dating someone else, he didn’t know. He just.

Didn’t like it.

“It’s fine,” Itachi said softly. He shrugged a little, taking a sip of water.

Itachi had meetings for his clubs and student offices Monday through Wednesday, so the deal was—Thursday he sat with Izumi at lunch, Friday he sat with Shisui. It was awkward, kind of, and when Itachi asked why they didn’t all just sit together both days, Shisui’s lame excuse was, “You should give her you’re complete attention. Girls like that.”

That might not have been the truth. But Shisui was set on believing it, so Itachi might as well, too.

“Have you gotten to second base yet?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Itachi rolled his eyes, casting a gentle glare at Shisui. “No.”

“Why not? I mean, she isn’t the most well developed girl at our school, but something is better than nothing, you know?”

Itachi sighed. “Don’t talk about her like that, Shisui.”

“Well, geez, fine. What else are we supposed to talk about?”

Itachi frowned. “There’s plenty of other things, Shisui, besides you making fun of my girlfriend.”

Yet he didn’t have anything to say, couldn’t find the right words, and a sticky silence stretched between them.

Shisui glared down at his pizza.

It was moment like these, where there wasn’t really a way to hide how damn weird things were between them sometimes. Ever since Itachi had started dating Izumi, things had…changed.

“Do you—want to hang out after school today?” Itachi suggested.

Shisui gave him a weird look. “I already told you, I’m going to visit my mom today.”

“Oh.” Itachi looked mildly surprised. “Oh, of course. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Cupcake,” Shisui muttered, picking up his slice of pizza. “I forget things all the time.”

Itachi smiled a little hopefully at the nickname.

* * *

 

He could do this forever, Shisui decided, listen to the sounds created by Itachi’s smooth movements as he glided the steady bow over the taught strings of the cello. He could lay on this dark leather couch and listen to low, elegant melodies, wrapped up in his own world—forever. There was nothing else like it.

“What do you think?” Itachi inquired quietly as he drew out the last note.

“Amazing,” Shisui replied, voice filled with honest awe. “I still can’t believe you can write something like that.”

Itachi smiled a bit at the praise despite himself. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“I’m serious, Cupcake,” Shisui insisted, sitting up and swinging his legs onto the floor. “Have you considered going professional?”

Itachi shook his head immediately, and Shisui was hypnotized by the dark ends of his hair swaying around his shoulders. “No, I don’t think I’ll go professional. That’s too risky, too many chances of failure. I couldn’t raise a family off of music alone, I don’t think.”

Shisui sat back, glancing quickly at the floor.

Family.

They were coming around the bend to their junior year in high school, and Itachi and Izumi were still going strong. They had already started college applications, and both Itachi and Izumi’s top choices were the same schools.

Shisui’s were too, but somehow that felt far less important.

Of course, all the girls at their high school were feeding Izumi that Itachi was going to marry her. Shisui couldn’t be in the same room as someone who was gossiping about it. He already knew that Itachi was going to off and marry a girl, and that Shisui would never get a chance. He didn’t need it rubbed in.

Oh, in case it wasn’t obvious, Shisui was head over heels in love with Itachi.

So that was a plus.

He watched Itachi put his cello back in the case, lounging on the couch. “Hey,” he began casually, running a hand through his hair. “Did you hear about Dennis?”

“Dennis?”

“Remember? Dennis Farley? He was a senior our freshman year.”

Itachi blinked, remembering vaguely. “Oh, that’s right. What about him?”

“He just got engaged to his boyfriend.”

“His…boyfriend?” He looked uncomfortable all the sudden.

“Yeah,” Shisui replied, watching Itachi carefully. “I thought that was pretty cool.”

Itachi didn’t react.

“You don’t?”

“Men shouldn’t marry men,” Itachi replied, shrugging. He refused eye contact. “It doesn’t make sense to me, I don’t think it should happen.”

“Oh,” Shisui responded with a forced laugh, feeling his lungs suck up like a vacuum. “Of course, of course.”

Good. Itachi was straight. Good good good good good.

There was nothing Shisui would want more! Than for the love of his life. To be. _Straight_.

And on top of that, he was borderline homophobic, to boot!

Thank god, considering the fact that Shisui liked dick as well as chicks. At least he could slog through each day knowing that Itachi would be disgusted by him if he knew the truth. At least he had that, he couldn’t think of anything better.

Wow, what a great day.                                    

“Shisui, did you hear me?”

“What?” Shisui snapped his head up.

“I asked you if you wanted to get lunch.” Itachi tilted his head to the side and Shisui thought it was really cute and fuck.

“Are you sure? Someone might think that we’re gay,” he joked.

What followed was literally the most awkward silence in the history and future of foreseeable mankind.

“That was a really bad joke,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

Itachi looked confused. “So is that a yes or a no for lunch?”

“It’s a yes,” Shisui waved his hand. “Where do you want to go?”

Itachi tapped his phone against his hand. “We could go to the gourmet pizza place?”

“Yeah.” Shisui flashed a quick smile, grabbing his wallet of the table and shoving it into his back pocket. “Sounds great.”

Now all he had to do was get through the rest of the day without vomiting up his broken heart.

* * *

 

Itachi shook the snow off of his coat, walking into the little breakfast cabin, phone pressed against his cold bitten cheek. There wasn’t any cell service here, and he had been trying to get a hold of Shisui all week, so he had to leech off of the restaurant wifi.

Izumi’s family had invited him to their mountain cabin to spend part of Christmas break. Her family liked him, a lot. He guessed that it made sense. He was a model student, never got into trouble. Motivated and dedicated, respectful to his elders. Really, it was the bare minimum in his opinion, but maybe that was a rarity in most high school seniors.

He was having a rather enjoyable time, since he didn’t get to see snow that often, and Izumi’s brother was helping teach him how to snowboard. It wasn’t that hard, since Itachi naturally had good balance, although he wasn’t sure if it was something he would want to do on his own time. He kind of wished the whole time that he could settle in the restaurant with a good book and hot chocolate and watch the snow fall at his leisure.

“Hello?”

“Shisui!” Itachi exclaimed. “You haven’t picked up the phone all week. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Shisui grumbled. “You call at inconvenient times and you never have wifi when I try to call back.” He yawned audibly. “What’s up?”

Itachi sat down into a cushioned seat. “How have you been? How is your Christmas break?”

“Boring,” Shisui admitted honestly. “I wish you were here.”

That warmed Itachi up more than all the hot chocolate in the world could do.

“I wish you were _here_. Izumi told you that you were welcomed!”

“No offense, dude, but—that be some pretty major third wheeling.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Itachi promised sincerely. “Izumi likes you, anyway, and she wants to get along with you.”

Shisui muttered something that Itachi didn’t quite make out. He supposed it was for the better.

“You two lovebirds sharin’ a bed?” Shisui asked.

“No. That would be wildly inappropriate; her parents are staying the same cabin as us.”

“Bet you wish you were in the sheets with her,” Shisui joked.

Quite on the contrary, Itachi was so incredibly glad that he wasn’t going to have to deal with that situation on this trip.

The kissing wasn’t so bad, really. He thought he would mind it a lot more than he did, but he actually kind of liked it sometimes. Maybe because it was always soft, never that sexual, and was comforting more than anything.

It was like kissing a friend. He probably wouldn’t mind kissing a different friend, like—Shisui.

But maybe that.

Wasn’t why.

He wouldn’t mind kissing Shisui.

“Anyways,” Itachi continued, shelving his thoughts. “I need your help with something.”

“What’s that?”

“Our two year anniversary is coming up, and I don’t know what to do.”            

“Two year anniversary? Our ten year anniversary happened and you didn’t do anything for _us_ , Cupcake.”

“I’m being serious,” Itachi scolded. “I really need your help.”

“I’m being serious, too!”

Itachi groaned. “Okay, I’ll make it up for you when I get back. But can we _please_ focus on this for just a few moments?”

“Fine, fine.” Shisui yawned again. “Do you have any ideas?”

“No.”

“Okay, uh—anniversary gifts should be sentimental, right? So what’s something romantic or whatever that you guys share.”

“I don’t know,” Itachi admitted.

“You don’t— _okay_ , never mind. What does she really like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Shit, Itachi, what do you think I mean?  You could take her to the beach, or an amusement park, or a on a picnic—”

“A picnic! Shisui, that’s a perfect idea!”

“Glad to help,” Shisui grumbled. He didn’t sound all that glad.

“I still need to get her a gift,” Itachi mused, twisted some of his hair between his fingers.

“Jewelry.”

“Jewelry?”

“Yeah. What girl doesn’t like shiny shit to slap around their necks?” He snorted. “Just, uh, you can’t get her a ring. That would send a lot of implications.”

“Of course not,” Itachi murmured. He was thoughtful for a second. “I wont be home for several more days, and there isn’t enough time to browse the interent. Damn, it’s going to be tight when I get home.”

Shisui was quiet. “I’ll—I can go look for stuff, if you need me to. I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Oh, Shisui,” Itachi breathed. “That would save my life. I should have thought this through earlier I just—”

“No need to apologize to me, I’m not the scorned girlfriend in this situation.” There was a joking current to his voice that Itachi didn’t understand. “I can scout out Tiffany’s tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much, Shisui, I love you so much for this.”

Shisui didn’t say anything for so long that Itachi pulled the phone away from his face to make sure the call didn’t drop.

“Yeah, I love you, too,” he eventually muttered quietly.

“Oh, and when you’re out, look for something kind of dainty. She prefers more modest things to wear.”

“Sure thing,” Shisui let out with a gusty sigh. “Just tell her to eat a burger, she’s so damn skinny.”

“She’s vegetarian,” Itachi replied absently. “I’m serious, Shisui, thank you so much for helping me.”

“Anything for you, Cupcake. You know that.”

* * *

 

Shisui stared at the concert tickets lying on his bed.

He guessed that he shouldn’t be _surprised_ that Itachi bailed on him.

I mean, what was a lifelong friend who had been there for you your entire life when you could go make out with a skinny girl?

Not much to Itachi, obviously.

Shisui didn’t even _like_ Hosier, he only bought them because he knew how much Itachi did. His friendship with Itachi had been really rocky and—Shisui didn’t know if he could deal with the thought of losing him.

But no matter how hard he tried to keep it going, Itachi just refused to be a team player. He wouldn’t text Shisui unless it was convenient, he never had time to hang out. And yeah, school, and college, and all that. But it wasn’t like he didn’t have free time.

He _did_ , he just spent it all with his girlfriend.

Shisui understood, young love and all that. And he shouldn’t let his incredibly jealous heart affect his judgement about the whole situation.

But, goddamit, he _loved_ Itachi more than he loved anything else in the entire world. He was such a dedicated friend, he worked so hard to be a good friend.

And Itachi just didn’t act like he gave a shit about it.

Didn’t he deserve even a sliver of Itachi’s time?

He had tried, more than once, to distance himself from Itachi. He thought that when he stopped being there for him, Itachi would realize how much he needed Shisui and come crawling back. It didn’t work, though, because every time his phone buzzed, shisui’s fingers were flying across his phone to text back. Everytime Itachi asked for a favor, he was there, putting aside his own problems to help him.

And yes, he knew that wasn’t exactly healthy but—he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t help it, he loved excessively, it was just in his nature.

And the times there were together, Shisui couldn’t even remember how hollow he felt without him, because just being _near_ Itachi was enough to make him feel complete.

He was fucked on a molecular level.

Of course Itachi apologized profusely—Izumi’s dance recital was last minute! He had to be there for her!—but it just felt like more of the same.

He sighed, scrolling through the contacts on his phone.

He could always find someone else to take to the concert.

* * *

 

It was a good day, Shisui decided, glancing at his stack of acceptance letters from colleges. He was aiming high for some— _Ivy League_ high—and yet University of Pennsylvania was so far the only University to reject him.

His desk buzzed.

Shisui answered his phone excitedly as soon as he saw the caller ID. “What’s up, Cupcake?” He grinned down at the acceptance letter on his lap. “I got good news.”

“Me too,” Itachi replied, a smile obvious in his voice.

“You first,” Shisui suggested, grinning. He leaned back in his desk chair.

“Shisui, I got—I got accepted into _Stanford_.”

Shisui slowly froze, the smile fading off his lips. “—What?”

“I can’t believe it, either! I never _really_ thought I would make it in. But I did and—I don’t even know what to do, this is so unreal.”

“Come on, Cupcake,” Shisui teased, but—it was so hollow. “We all knew you would make it in. You’re the brightest person I’ve ever met.”

“And it’s convenient,” Itachi continued, ignoring the compliment. “Izumi made it into UCLA, which is close enough that we can see each other on long weekends and stuff. What about you! Did you make it into UCLA?”

“Yeah,” Shisui answered dully. Another thing that Izumi ripped away from them. UCLA was _their_ thing, she had nothing to do with it. There were so many damn colleges, why did she have to pick the one that Itachi and Shisui had been planning on for years?

“Shisui, that’s wonderful! Your dream school.”

“It was our dream school,” Shisui answered, eyebrows crinkled inwards as he stared at the floor. It was only ever Shisui’s dream because of _Itachi_.

“I…I know, Shisui, but—how am I supposed to turn down Stanford? I _have_ to go there. You know how much I’ve bragged about that school. It’s going to be okay, we’re only a few hours from each other and—”

“I’m not going to UCLA,” Shisui interrupted, looking back down at the acceptance letter. He shoved it onto the floor.

“…what?”

“I’m going to Cornell.” He swallowed, grabbing the stacks of letters off of his desk, puling out the appropriate envelope.

“Wait—Cornell? I mean congratulations for making it in but—why?”

“Oh, so you can go to whatever college you want but I can’t?” Shisui snapped.

“No—Shisui, of course that’s not what I meant. You always said that you didn’t think you’d be able to stand living in a city as big as New York, I’m just confused as why you would choose that school.”

“Well, I changed my mind. Besides, it’s close to Pennsylvania; that’s where my dad grew up, I’ve always thought about moving there.”

Itachi was silent for a moment. “Well, then—I’m happy for you, Shisui. Cornell is incredibly lucky to have you.” And the worst part was, his voice was so damn sincere. “It’s unfortunate that we’ll be so far apart, though.”

“Whatever. It’s college, it’s time to get serious about our lives.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Itachi murmured, sounding off.

Shisui knew he was being a brat, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t go to the same school as Itachi’s future bride when he was so damn _jealous_ of her. Couldn’t meet up with Itachi only on breaks for a few minutes and then leave so the two of them could spend the rest of the day together. He couldn’t keep on devoting himself to someone who didn’t love him all that much in the first place. He just—had to end this, all of it. Everything between him and Itachi.

Maybe then, on the other side of the country, not having to be near him anymore, _knowing_ that any chance for the two of them was totally gone—maybe then he could start getting over him.

He was right, college was the start of adulthood. He had to get serious about his own life, and.

Itachi wasn’t going to be in it.

“Anyway, I gotta go,” Shisui started around a throat full of pain.

“Wait, I—”

“Lots of phonecalls and all that. I’m gonna go tell my mom in person.” He hadn’t been planning on that, but it was a pretty good idea, actually.

“…okay, then. I’ll talk to you soon?” Itachi’s voice was soft.

“Bye.” Shisui hung up without even waiting for a goodbye.

The worst part was knowing that Itachi probably wouldn’t even care about their dissolving friendship half as much as Shisui did.

* * *

 

Shisui threw his book bag onto his bed.

“Dude, fuck Professor Haymon,” Kiba swore, crumpling his essay up. “I didn’t deserve a B on this and everyone knows it.” He threw it into Shisui’s waste bin.

“Kobe!” Naruto hollered, snickering.

“You know why Haymon hates you,” Shisui snorted, cracking open a can of coke and collapsing onto his beanbag.

“Yeah, ‘cuz the racist son of a bitch only thinks I made it into this school because of my native blood,” Kiba growled. “Can we _please_ egg his car or something?”

Shisui paused. “We’ll get sued for property damage,” he muttered into his coke.

“Yeah, a friend of mine egged his ex’s car and all the paint came off,” Naruto whistled. “It wasn’t a pretty picture.”

Kiba groaned, shoving Shisui’s bag onto the floor. “I just hate him so much,” he whined.

“Careful,” he grumbled. “And take off your shoes if you’re gonna lay on my bed.”

“Hey, Sushi,” Kiba called, kicking off his flipflops. “Who’s this guy? I keep meaning to ask you.” He pointed at a golden picture frame on his night desk.

The frame held a picture of Shisui and Itachi on their graduation day. They were dressed up in their ugly, oversized navy blue graduation robes. Itachi was excessively adorned with medals and awards and chords from his academic excellence. Both of them had beautiful orchid leis, courtesy of Mikoto, and Sasuke made Itachi a money lei worth over five hundred dollars.

It wasn’t really a happy memory, which you could probably infer from the looks in their eyes. Shisui knew that they were never going to see each other again after they left for college, which made this particular scene, one of the last moments he would get with him, a little stressful.

“He’s just a guy,” Shisui muttered. He slouched up off the beanbag, setting his coke down. “I probably shouldn’t have that up here anymore. It was just kind of a memento to help me transition from high school life to college life, but—eh.” He grabbed the picture frame, throwing it under his bed to lie with the rest of his spare junk and literal trash.

“Uh—are you sure?” Naruto asked, raising an eyebrow. “You might accidentally throw it away.”

Shisui shrugged. “Who cares?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Clearly not.” Shisui rolled his eyes.

“He seems kind of important to you,” Naruto clarified.

Shisui collapsed back into the bean bag, grabbing his coke off the floor and taking a swig.

“He’s not.”

* * *

 

Itachi set in his desk chair.

Warm light filtered in through the open window; he could gently hear the sound of leaves rustling outside.

_“Whatever. It’s college, it’s time to get serious about our lives.”_

He thought, for the millionth time, about what Shisui had told him months ago. He was right, it _was_ time to get serious about his life. He had a future to plan, he had a life ahead of him he needed to make sure was secure.

He didn’t know why he felt so sick.

No, scratch that, he knew _exactly_ why he felt so sick. Getting ready to essentially flush all your true desires and hopes and dreams down the toilet to live a farce of a life was a pretty nauseating thing to face. He had to do it, though, he had to. What other choice did he have?

If his parents found out the truth—

He knew that they loved him, but. He wasn’t sure if they loved him _that_ much.

Sasuke knew, of course. He got Itachi drunk and prodded him until he admitted it. He didn’t mind that Sasuke knew, he wasn’t scared he would tattle—they weren’t children, anymore—but the rest of his family was a different story.

Besides, Izumi was perfect. No matter what he really was, it didn’t change how good Izumi was for him, realistically.

He would take care of her, no matter what that meant for him. He would give her everything she needed even if it tore him apart inside.

He was already planning on lying to her for the rest of their committed lives, he wasn’t going to be a neglectful husband on top of it.

He stared at the pretty diamond ring, watching the light glint off of it.

Izumi was his future, Izumi was a _solid_ future, a _practical_ one. And she loved him, and he loved her—albeit a little bit differently, but that wasn’t the point. They were compatible, and she would be a wonderful mother. She got a long with his family—how anyone was capable of doing that, Itachi didn’t know, but she _did it_ somehow.

That was a sign in and of itself, right?

So, really, there was no problem.

Itachi had already given everything up so long ago, he had agreed with himself to marry a woman so _long ago_ , so why he got cold feet all of the sudden, he didn’t really know. Maybe because the other day Izumi mentioned _him_ and Itachi still couldn’t really feel his legs from the punch in the gut his name was.

But Itachi had already given up Shisui, too, so long ago.

With a deep breath, he snapped the velvet box closed and tucked it away in his drawer. He already had the date planned, and how he would ask her. He knew what he was wearing, he knew what he was going to say, he knew the facial expressions he was going to force.

He had everything ready.

And now, he had the courage.

He opened his laptop and began writing the announcement letter he would send his mom. He did it now, when he wasn’t so sick he wouldn’t be able to fake his joy.

It would be okay, though, he had confidence it wouldn’t be so miserable.

Maybe, he thought. Maybe he could have cupcakes at the wedding reception.

* * *

 

Shisui let his head bang on the library tale.

Kiba chuckled, throwing a paper airplane across the room. “Aww, don’t be too sad, Sushi. I’m sure there’s other guys on campus who aren’t getting laid on Valentine’s Day, too.”

Naruto snickered. “Shisui, when _is_ the last time you go laid?”

“Not since Jessica,” Kiba cheerfully chimed in. “He cried afterwards and she told all her friends; since then, no girl will touch him.”

“Shut up,” Shisui grumbled. “My sex life isn’t any of your business.”

“You don’t have a sex life, boy,” Kiba ribbed, folding another piece of paper.

“Why did you _cry_?” Naruto hollered, slapping the dark table.

“I was drunk and very emotional and—it’s none of your damn business!”

“Seriously though.” Kiba pointed the airplane at the sky. “What’s been up with you? You don’t chase girls—”

“Or guys,” Naruto helpfully added with a wink.

“—and you always mope around.”

“I don’t mope,” Shisui muttered, staring dully at the table. “And it doesn’t matter. It will never matter. So who cares.”

There was a stretch of silence, one part awkward, one part unsure.

“Is it that guy?” Kiba asked quietly.

“What guy.” Shisui let his pen bounce on the table.

“The pretty boy in the golden picture frame? The one you used to have on your desk until you threw it under your bed when we started asking about it. When you get drunk sometimes you rummage under your bed for it, but can never find it.”

Shisui’s eyes were dim, his face blank. His hand stilled on the desk.

Naruto shifted uncomfortably.

“I went halfway across the country to get away from him. I thought that if I didn’t have to see his face and his hair and his smile and his eyes—” he slammed his head against the table.

“Shit—Shisui don’t do that!” Kiba grabbed his head, poking his curly hair. “You’re gonna get brain damage.”

“He’s already pretty stupid,” Naruto joked. But it fell flat. Shisui was _legitimately_ upset and no amount of heartfelt bullying would make it better.

“Look, Sushi, man,” Kiba began, a little unsure, “you’ll get over him, y’know? You’ll be okay.”

Shisui snorted listlessly. “I fell for him over four years ago. I haven’t seen him or talked to him in two. And he’s still the most important damn person to me on this entire garbage planet.” His forehead cracked against the desk top again. “I hate him and I hate myself and I hate my entire life.”

Kiba patted his back. “Why don’t we take you down to the bar tonight? Pick up some pretty lady for you to take home?”

“No,” Shisui insisted, glaring. “Sex isn’t the answer to everything.”

“Kibbles just can’t stop talking about it because Hinata doesn’t put out much,” Naruto jibed.

“Speaking of Hinata,” Shisui said, raising his head up, “why aren’t you guys with your girlfriends?”

“Hinata’s at a lecture,” Kiba explained, folding another piece of paper.

“Who goes to lecture on Sunday? On _Valentine’s_ day?” Shisui wrinkled his face.

Kiba rolled his eyes. “Someone trying to become a neurosurgeon, that’s who. Unlike your dumb ass.”

“Yeah, I bet I won’t hear you talking shit about computer programing next time I have to fix your damn laptop.”

Naruto snickered.

“And you,” Shisui huffed, glaring at the blond, “should have Ino’s legs locked around your face.”

Naruto grinned. “In due time, my friend. She’s spending the day with Sakura because ‘girl time,’ but she’ll be coming back in about an hour. That’s when my magical night starts.”

Shisui grumbled, shoving his books back into his bag.

“Where are you going?” Kiba whined, throwing the new airplane at him.

“Back to my room. I’m going to sleep. Or watch Netflix. Or masturbate. Or all three, I don’t give a shit, I just don’t want to be here.”

“C’mon, Shisui,” Naruto grinned brightly at him. “Why don’t you call your friend? Maybe you’ll be happy to speak with him.”

“We aren’t friends anymore,” Shisui bit. “And I’m quite sure he doesn’t give a shit about me, else he might have called me once since we left for college.”

“But maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Shisui turned abruptly. “He gonna tell me about his beautiful girlfriend and all the things they’re doing on their special day?” He glowered at the floor, fingers tightening around the worn brown straps of his book bag. “No matter what I feel, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me. He’s gonna marry his bitch, and never think of me again.”

“Hey, Sushi, just—”

“No offense, but you don’t really understand the situation so I would appreciate it if you would fuck off of your superior high ground,” Shisui snapped.

“Damn,” Kiba’s brows set inwards as he spoke, “we’re just trying to help. You don’t have to be such a little bitch about it.”

Shisui paused until the scowl dropped off his face. He ran a tired hand over his curly hair. “Look—I’m sorry, okay? I’m just…everything about this sucks and nothing you can say will make it better. So thanks for trying, but I’m going to go wallow in my room for a little while, yeah?”

Naruto rubbed a hand behind his head. “I’m—honestly sorry for you man. I really do hope you get over him.”

“For our sakes, if nothing else,” Kiba pitched in helpfully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shisui muttered. “Thanks.”

He walked up a set of steps, to the immaculate white building that was the recreation center. He popped in to order a burger—or two, or three, there was no limit when eating your depression away—and get a chocolate shake.

As he waited for his order to be prepared, he wondered if he really would ever get over Itachi. If the horrible ache in his heart from losing someone he loved so much—not even just as a potential lover, but as a _friend_ of immeasurable closeness—would fade, if it would allow him to move on with his life. Maybe he needed to start making a conscious effort. Maybe he needed to go through conversion therapy, hell, at this point he would take anything.

It just sucked because. Izumi made Itachi happy. They were good for each other. Izumi was smart, smarter than Shisui, and mentally stimulated Itachi like he needed. They were so well matched.

Shisui just couldn’t compare, not even as a friend, much less as a lover.

He was walking back to his dorm, takeout food in his bag, when he saw a figure approaching him from on the side walk. He didn’t think anything of it, there were plenty of students milling around. The man came closer, though, and Shisui stopped dead in his tracks because—there—there was no _way_ he was seeing straight—

Itachi stopped a couple feet in front of him. He was literally a hundred times more beautiful than Shisui remembered.

He was so beautiful he couldn’t breathe, and in that moment, Shisui knew.

No, he would never get over him. Shisui would be stuck dangling in the fabric of space, his heart and soul always chasing after Itachi. And he could get married, and have forty-seven children and grandchildren, and his heart would still be clutched between Itachi’s cruel, pale cellist fingers for the rest of comprehensible infinity.

And maybe—he would be alright with that. Maybe it was worth it. Because it had been a hair over two years and just the sight of Itachi made his heart fill up to the brim.

And maybe love like that was worth suffering for.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Shisui.” Itachi had a giant heart shaped box in his hand, an ostentatious pink bow stuck to the top.

“What—are you _doing here_?” Shisui choked, dropping his book bag. He realized with a little regret that he had just murdered his milkshake.

“I’m here to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day,” Itachi said innocently. He had sharp eyes and a twitch of a smile, though, so Shisui knew he was nervous.

Shisui stared. “Is this a joke?”

“No,” Itachi answered honestly. “Are you going to take your present?” He held out the box.

Shisui looked dumbfounded, but he did reach forward and take the cardboard heart from Itachi’s hands. He plucked off the over the top bow and, after a moment of idiotic floundering, slapped it onto the side of his thigh to stick.

Itachi smiled a little.

Shisui pulled the lid off the box and—

“…this is…frosting?”

Itachi pushed black hair behind his ear. “Do you remember how we met?”

Shisui locked his jaw, glaring down at the swirls of sticky pink. “Yeah,” he grit. The backs of his eyes were singing. “’Course I do.

“I couldn’t think of anything to give you that would mean something, especially after not seeing you for so long. But…I thought that this was sentimental enough.”

Shisui pressed his lips together, staring silently at the gift. “Why are you here, Itachi?” He looked up and he was just so—tired. “Why aren’t you with Izumi?”

“Shisui—”

“She’s your beautiful girlfriend and you shouldn’t leave her alone on the most important date on the calendar for couples.”

“Shisui—”

“And she’s wonderful and perfect for you and you shouldn’t be doing anything that jeopardizes your relationship because she’s your future.”

“Shisui—”

“So go back home and—”

“Izumi and I broke up,” Itachi interrupted.

Shisui blinked. “ _What_?” He nearly threw the box of frosting onto the floor. “Itachi, why the fuck would you do that?!” He was almost panicking. “You were supposed to marry her and have brainiac super hero babies that would save the world and cure cancer and feed the starving children of the world and—”

“I’m gay.”

Shisui froze. “Wha—wait—what—um?”

Itachi smiled a little.

“What are you talking about? You’re not gay.”

“Yes, I am,” Itachi reiterated, stepping forward closer to Shisui. “I am very, very gay. I figured it out during my sophomore year.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Shisui whispered, shaking his head rapidly. “You started dating Izumi your sophomore year.”

“Exactly,” Itachi annunciated. “I asked her out immediately after I realized that there was something wrong with me. I didn’t…I couldn’t deal with myself if I was gay, so I tried to force myself to like girls.” He shrugged. “It didn’t work.”

Shisui could only stare with a—and to be completely unbiased—incredibly stupid expression on his face.

“You always meant a lot to me. So much, that after I realized I was gay…you started to mean something different to me.”

“Shut up, Itachi,” Shisui whispered.          

Itachi ignored him, pushing on. “And when we went to college, you said that it was time to get serious about our lives. And you were the one thing that reminded me how much I hated myself, you were the part of me I was trying so hard to bury.”

Shisui looked lost.

“So I stopped talking to you. You were on the other side of the country, and I pretended to forget about you. It wasn’t easy, but I’d been pretending to be a different person for years, so what was one more thing, right?” Itachi tilted his head, trying to meet Shisui’s eyes. “Last year I asked Izumi to marry me.”

Shisui’s head snapped up. He knew—he _knew_ it was going to happen, he knew he was going to _officially_ lose Itachi forever, but hearing was like—a thousand tiny bees stabbing him with a million tiny spears.

But that didn’t make sense because—

“I thought you said that you broke up?”

“We did. She said no.” Itachi laughed a little. “I was mortified at first, but then she sat me down and held my hands—”

“I don’t want to hear this.” Shisui would probably die and then throw up and then give birth to his own tombstone if he had to hear the details of their intimacy.

“—and told me,” Itachi pushed on, “that she knew I was gay since the beginning of senior year. She kept dating me because she felt bad for me. She told me that she didn’t have any feeling for me anymore, besides purely platonic, but we would maintain our relationship until I figured out what to do with myself. Last month she met a guy she really liked, so we ‘officially’ broke it off so she could be with him.”

Shisui literally looked like a deer in the headlights. He felt himself sprouting ears and antlers and hooves.

“So,” Itachi swung his arms a little. “I had two options. Find and marry a closeted lesbian that I can live with in misery for the next seventy years.” He gave Shisui a little smile. “Or I could get back to the source of this whole mess and see what my other options are.”

He took another step even closer to Shisui, and Shisui made a noise even he couldn’t quite comprehend.

“I’ve been a horrible friend,” he murmured, his endlessly black eyes framed by his impossibly long lashes boring into his. “But I love you, I have for so long, and all I can do is ask that you can forgive me. It’s probably too late—”

“It’s never too late,” Shisui choked.

“What?” Itachi asked softly.

“It’s never too late, not for you. You could have told me this when we were shriveling up in our eighties and—it wouldn’t be too late. Not for you. I love you,” Shisui let the words fall out of his mouth messy and tangled. He meant them, though, every syllable. “And it isnt’ all your fault. I’ve been a brat about all of this too. I never wanted to go here, I fucking hate New York, I literally hate this city so fucking much, I just didn’t want to go to the same school as Izumi.”

Itachi laughed a little, and then Shisui started laughing a little, too. Not because it was funny, because this was the most unfunny situation of his life and—thinking about it, holy shit he hated New York, this was a horrible decision. But they were still laughing, and he didn’t know why.

Wait, yes he did.

They were both batshit insane.

“So,” Itachi began hopefully, “do you want to spend Valentine’s day with me? We have some lost time to make up for.”

Shisui nodded. “Yeah, lets do that. That’s a good idea. But—first, uh.”

He dug his fingers into the pink frosting, scooping up a big glob and—

Threw it right in Itachi’s face.

Itachi blinked, thick frosting sticking to his eyelashes and plopping off of his hair.

“I was a bitch about this, but you were an even bigger bitch, so you deserve a face full of frosting. So now we’re even.”

A smile slowly spread across Itachi’s face, the corners of his eyes crinkling in glee. “I’ll take it.” He wiped a bit of the sugar off of his cheek, and then glared at his hands, unsure what to do with it. “I just hope you know, Izumi and I still plan to stay friends. Can you handle that?”

“Oh, so now you’re dating me, and she’s the friend that has to watch from the sidelines? Well, how the turntables…”

“Shut up,” Itachi snorted. He bit his lips, fighting a smile, and the walked forward, pressing both of his hands to the side of Shisui’s face.

Shisui had imagined kissing Itachi precisely one hundred billion times, but the fantasies didn’t hold even half a candle to the real thing. He dropped the box of frosting, pink goo splattering onto the pristine concrete and the sides of their shoes. He realized he was kissing someone in the middle of a common walkway, yes, but that wasn’t going to stop him from grabbing Itachi around his waist and pressing their bodies tightly together.

Itachi’s lips were so soft and sweet.

And no, it wasn’t just the frosting.

Itachi pulled back eventually, a wrinkle bunching up his cute little nose.

“What’s wrong,” Shisui asked, squeezing him tighter. “You don’t like kissing me?”

“No, quite the contrary, it’s just—it tastes like frosting.” He licked his lips and grimaced.

Shisui snorted, leaning back in. “Get over it, Cupcake.”

* * *

Shisui nearly bounced out of his seat.

“Could you _calm down_?” Naruto asked, exasperated. “Acting like a toddler won’t get you seeing him any quicker.”

“I want him right now,” Shisui whined.

Itachi and he had decided to not change anything until they finished college. Shisui tried to convince Itachi to let him transfer to Berkeley, so they could be close, but Itachi insisted that he finish his four years at Cornell. They would go from there. They skyped almost every night, and even when they didn’t have time, they squeezed in phone calls or text messages. After the first few awkward days, the two of them fell back into the pattern they had when they were kids. It was natural for them, to be in love like they were. It was easy and it felt so damn good.

Unfortunately, they barely got to see each other in person, so their physical relationship was starving. Shisui was _delighted_ to know that Itachi had never done anything but kiss Izumi, understandably, and that he was still a virgin. After a couple months of them talking, Shisui got Itachi to undress for him on webcam, and tried to persuade him to jack off.

“You can watch me pleasure myself in person,” Itachi had replied, mostly as a joke.

Shisui booked a plane ticket to northern California the first chance he got.

So now he was on a plane idling at the San Francisco airport, bouncing uncontrollably in his seat. Itachi’s graduation was in two days, and he took Kiba because Hana Inuzuka was graduating some veterinary program thing in California and Naruto—didn’t have anything better to do.

Besides, he wanted Itachi to meet his friends.

As soon as the fasten seatbelt sign went dim, Shisui jumped up. He ended up impatiently tapping his foot for a few minutes as the other passengers took their sweet time disembarking the plane.

He nearly sprinted out of the gate and down the hall to the waiting area.

When he saw Itachi waiting for him, his heart stopped. It then picked back up in double time, and he dropped all his bags—who gave a shit what was in them when Itachi was _right there_ —and took off down the stairs.

“Cupcake,” he breathed, grabbing Itachi’s face and pulling it into his.

Itachi’s fingers wound into his hair as they kissed.

They broke apart—Shisui was sick of this publicity shit, he needed Itachi in a private room with him and lots of lube and he needed it now—and Itachi smiled at him.

Shisui was going to die if his heart didn’t calm down.

On a side note, he could hear Kiba squawking as he tried to drag two sets of luggage down the stairs.

“Hi,” Itachi murmured, eyes shining. “How was your flight?”

“Long and stupid and irrelevant.” He kissed him again. “I love you.” He did, he did so much and he was going to explode if he didn’t say it another ten thousand times in the next thirty seconds.

Itachi buried his face into Shisui’ neck. “I love you, too.”

“We graduated college, Itachi, we did it.”

Itachi nodded. “I know.”

Shisui pressed his face into his hair. “We can be together now, Itachi. Fucking _finally_.”

Itachi laughed, drawing his head back.

“We can figure out where we want to live and what jobs we’re gonna get and then we can buy a house and a car and a dog and an xbox—”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself!” Itachi laughed again, letting himself lean back as Shisui’s arms had an iron grip around his lower back.

“Okay, but Itachi, we can be _together_ now.”

Itachi’s face softened. “I know. I’m happy, too, Shisui.”

“I’m not leaving your side for a day, Itachi, not a single day. I’m gonna sleep in the same bed as you every day for the next one hundred and fifty years.”

“Promise?” Itachi asked, eyes shining.

“I promise.”                                                                                                

“You guys are disgusting,” Kiba gagged, coming up to them.

“You’re just jealous because I found my soul mate and Hinata broke up with you.”

“Hey, man, that was a low blow,” Kiba whined.

“Shisui, don’t be rude.” He stepped around Shisui, who simply repositioned his arms so he was hugging Itachi from behind—what, you thought he was going to let him _go_?—and extended a hand. “It’s lovely to officially meet you two.” They had talked on Skype before, but never met in person.

“You owe me, like, three years of therapy,” Kiba griped. “It’s a nonstop stream of ‘why isn’t Itachi here right now,’ and ‘it’s not fair,’ and ‘I just want to put his dick in my mouth.’”

Itachi glared at Shisui for that one. “I formally apologize for any inconvenience he has caused the two of you.”

“It’s all good,” Naruto said good-naturedly, grinning. “We’re happy for you two crazy kids.”

“Well, I have my car in the lot, we can take off now if you’re all ready?” Itachi suggested, tilting his head back to look at Shisui.

“Yeah, let’s get the heck out of here and into bed.” Shisui winked. “Kiba, you get my bags.”

“What the fuck man, no, you carry your own shit!”

“Sorry, my hands are full!” Shisui hollered back, twisting his fingers in between Itachi’s.

Kiba kept cursing at him, but he didn’t care.

Because he was holding Itachi’s hand, and he was never, ever, ever letting go.

* * *

Back in middle school, Itachi came to the conclusion that he would never be able to completely control Shisui.

That was a wrong assumption.

He figured out exactly how to control the man. He supposed the methods just weren’t something he would have thought of when he was thirteen.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Itachi lilted, a strawberry pushing in between his lips as he leaned forward against the counter. His long hair—longer than it used to be, Shisui was obsessed with it—cascaded down his back, unperturbed except for a red bow tied up at the top. His chest was bare, and the only clothes he wore were a pair of sheer black socks that went to his knees, and some lacy lingerie thing he ordered form Victoria’s Secret online that he could barely get around his ass and get his dick into.

If the expression on Shisui’s face was anything to go by, however, he more than liked it.

“Dinner is ready,” Itachi announced, pointing a long arm towards the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Shisui muttered, staring at the curve of Itachi’s mostly exposed ass. “About that, I think I found something else to eat.”

Itachi laughed a little, motioning him forward. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”

Shisui was in front of him in a second, wrapping his arms around him and pushing him up onto the counter. He began sucking on his neck, not sweetly or romantically, but hungrily as me moved his lips and teeth and tongue from place to place. His hands grabbed at all the skin available to him.

And then he sank his fingers into that _hair._

“So, sex now, dinner later, yeah?”

Itachi leaned back, stretching his chest out, letting his hair sway behind him.

On a completely unrelated note, Shisui’ pants were really, really tight.

“If we do that, our dinner will get cold.”

“We own a microwave?”

Itachi laughed. “Fine. Sex now. I made the bedroom all nice and pretty. It’s very over the top, just how you like. There’s some other fun stuff in there, too, if you want to get creative.”

Shisui was beginning to plan on skipping dinner and eating whatever Itachi had prepared for breakfast the next morning. He wrapped his arms around Itachi’s waist, ready to whisk him away to the bedroom and not let him leave for a very, very long time.

“Wait,” Itachi insisted. “You just got home, you at least have to kiss me hello. All you’ve done is maul my neck.”

Shisui pressed their lips together, getting Itachi’s mouth open easily. It didn’t take too long before Shisui decided that he needed Itachi _now_ , as in _right that very second_.

“Wait, wait!” Itachi protested again as Shisui tried to carry him off, twisting around to grab something off the counter. “Here,” he said, pressing a can of frosting against Shisui’s hand. “In case you want to combine dinner and sex.”

Shisui stared at the bottle of frosting, blinking.

“I love you, Shisui,” Itachi murmured, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day, and Happy Anniversary.”

“I love you too, I love you so fucking much.” He nuzzled against Itachi’s nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Cupcake.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to add some proper smut but the my wrist fell off, so. 
> 
> I actually did fuck up my wrist a few days ago, so writing hasn't been the easiest. 
> 
> Just so you know, I know .2 things about Cornell and that's that my grandpa got accepted there and it's a really good school and it reminds me of a carnation so don't actually believe anything I said about it. I have no idea if there's a pretty white building that served burgers, there probably isn't actually a racist literature professor so. Don't you go writing angry letters. :P
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, I literally wrote for hours on end without ever checking the time. And when I did, it was 'Holy shit! I was supposed to have this out by noon!' so that was fun. Also, I hope no one was offended by the moderate homophobia, I only included it to try and paint the struggle of a closeted kid in denial as best I could, I really didn't want anyone to be uncomfortable with it.
> 
> Comments and kudos will heal the wound of being alone on Valentine's Day. So. You know, consider it. :P I kid, I kid.
> 
> In all honesty though, feeback is really important for me, so if you do have anything to say, I promise it will mean a lot to me. If not, thank you for stopping by anyways <3
> 
> I'll see you lateerrrrrrrr ^^


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